Escape From the Country Read online

  “Hey, you two, what’s going on?”

  They didn’t respond, no reaction at all. He started to walk towards them, but became more aware of why they were there. As he could hear them more clearly, he paused and stood, watching as if they were actors in a play. The woman was laughing and caressing the man in a way he didn’t feel comfortable. He flinched every time she went to touch him and laughed at the way he reacted, giving her a sick sense of satisfaction. Bewildered, Chris stood there, not sure if he was dreaming but felt completely out of place, scared to interact, fearing that he’d be sucked into this odd reality without escape.

  “Come on, don’t you want to? You are a man after all, surely you want to?” She asked as the man tried to edge away from her. “Come on, say something. Why are you so quiet? Say something or I’ll tell Jack you were mean to me.”

  “No, please.” The man nervously said. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Nothing, I don’t want anything from you, just to sit and talk. Is that ok? I just want us to be friends, you know?” The woman was trying to come off as sincere but anyone could see she had ulterior motives. She extended her hand and ran her fingers up the man’s leg. He tried his best to hold his nerve but it was all he could do not to turn and run away.

  “Please Mrs Winshaw, I don’t think we should be doing this.” The man pleaded in a high voice. He sounded like a plain talking man, possibly mentally challenged in some way.

  “Relax, we’re not doing anything wrong, we’re just getting to know each other a bit better. What’s wrong with that?” Her demeanour was becoming more devious and the look she gave was almost toxic.

  “Don’t think Mr Winshaw ‘ud like this. Think I’d better get on and see to the yard.” He began to stand but stopped in his tracks as she barked at him.

  “I wouldn’t do that Joe. My husband doesn’t take kindly to people hurting his wife.” The man stood there, confusion written all over him. She picked up a rake leaning against the wall and ran her index finger along the pole as she slowly walked over to the terrified man. “Wouldn’t take much to convince him you’d attacked me with this would it?” She placed the forked end against her bare ankle as she looked directly into the man’s terrified eyes. Her face twisted slightly as she pulled on the rake, several prongs rising up her leg, scratching into the skin.

  “Please, Mrs Winshaw, stop.” He grabbed her hand, pleading her to cease this madness.

  “That’s better Joe.” She said, clasping her other hand around his. “So, where were we?” She turned away, leading him by the hand back to the pile of hay. As he walked, he had the look of a defeated man. Chris watched on, mesmerized by what he was seeing. As she left he turned and looked directly at Chris. For the first time, his presence was acknowledged and he so desperately wanted to reach out to understand what he was seeing, but the man simply turned back towards his mistress and began to fade away.

  “No, wait!” Chris cried after them but the barn vanished before him, leaving only the boxes he’d piled into the shed those few weeks ago.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The road seemed harder than usual as Julie ran along it, listening to her music. She always liked to listen to fast dance songs whilst running, but the distraction wasn’t enough for her to take that hung over feeling away. It seemed like a great idea at first to run off the calories from last night and try to clear her head, but not even a mile in, she had deep regrets. Finally admitting defeat, she stopped and decided to stretch against a fence overlooking the river that she’d walked along with Chris on the way back from the Italian. There was something soothing in the way the water slowly flowed along, taking the odd piece of vegetation with it, as if giving it a lift to some pleasant destination. Her legs were tight and her chest felt heavy. She hadn’t managed much exercise since they’d moved and what she had managed had been limited to a quick set of sit ups and squats. She did those more to convince herself she’d been trying to keep in shape rather than actually making a difference. That was evident to her in how out of breath she felt. After stretching each leg out and feeling the satisfaction from it, she continued her run, albeit not attacking the road quite as hard as before. She was getting more used to her surroundings and could start to see herself as part of the community. It wouldn’t mean attending the weekly knitting club or taking up bridge, but the country life wasn’t turning out to be quite as bad as she thought. She hoped that Chris would try to chill out a bit more and felt bad that he’d done all this to save their marriage, to forgive her actions so they could both move on. The irony being that it appeared she was benefitting more from the move than him at the moment.

  As she ran over the bridge that crossed the bend in the river, she decided to climb the style and run back via the path they’d taken last night. It was the other side of the river and was enclosed in parts by trees and bushes. In her fragile state, she welcomed the idea of not being seen by the odd passer-by. Her feet instantly thanked her for the choice of route. The ground wasn’t particularly soft with the sun beating down each day causing it to go hard, but was a pleasant change from the unforgiving tarmac. Settling into the next song, her pace became manageable and she felt good for making the effort. A beeping noise came over the music and then silence. She stopped and checked the connection, only to find the battery was dead. Annoyed, but undeterred, she placed the device back in its holder and continued on. As she raised her head after taking the first few steps, she stopped abruptly, narrowly avoiding a collision with a young woman directly in front of her. Julie hadn’t seen her approaching, but assumed she’d been too caught up in her music.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  “You’re pretty.” The young woman said in a spaced-out kind of way.

  “Thanks, not feeling it today though.” Julie responded, unsure of exactly how to react. She couldn’t help but notice the number of tattoos the girl had up her arms and across her chest.

  “Your husband must be wondering where you are. I hope you’re hurrying back to see him?” The girl’s voice was eerie to say the least and gave the impression she knew Julie.

  “My husband? Yeah, just going back now.” Uneasy, she stepped around the tattooed woman and said goodbye.

  “Remember Julie,” She stopped dead in her tracks, turning to stare unbelievably at the woman who somehow knew her name. “Temptation is all around you. No good will come of it, but you cannot change what has already been.”

  Speechless Julie stood there, not sure how to react to the woman’s words. What temptation? How did she know her? Suddenly a bird cawed from the tree causing her jump and cry out as she looked up. Composing herself, she turned back but found no one there, just the empty path she’d been running along.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chris wasn’t too happy about Julie spending more time out of the house. He thought her time would be better spent looking for a job rather than shopping and keeping fit, but they both knew his real motives were to keep her in the house where he could see her. It bothered him that he still didn’t trust her, but then reasoned it would take time and ultimately, she was in the wrong so he had nothing to feel bad about. Although he wasn’t happy, it did give him an excellent opportunity to do a bit of research on the history of the house without her noticing and getting worried. He typed in the address and got nothing but the links to internet estate agencies that were trying to sell the house in the first place. He expanded his search to the road and then to the village itself, wondering if there was some major event that took place that might throw a bit of light on what was going on. The fact that he didn’t know what he was even supposed to be looking for didn’t really help. Chris had never been one to buy into the whole supernatural world but the things he’d experienced since moving in were hard to ignore and were getting harder to pass off as stress or lack of sleep. Searching for history on the town, he saw a link to the local library. It seemed a bit old school and something out of a ‘90s horror movie, but thought it’d be worth a
go. It did make sense, the best place to look in an old town concerning your old house would be in an old library. A key turned in the latch and made him jump, making him realise how on edge he was. Quickly, he took note of the address and locked his phone.

  “You alright? Good run?” he called.

  “Erm, not really.” Julie replied, a little shaken. Chris quickly got up and met her in the hall.

  “What happened, are you ok?” He asked with more worry in his voice than he’d intended.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just met this really weird woman. She was all covered in tattoos and was saying some really strange things.”

  “What kind of strange things?” Chris got that sinking feeling. The kind he got when he already knew bad news was about to come, but needed to play the conversation out anyway. Julie hesitated a moment, realising exactly what the woman said regarding temptation.

  “Just that she knew my name and I should hurry back to my husband.” Satisfied she’d dodged a bullet, she carried on taking her running shoes off.

  “She knew your name? Had you met her in town do you think and had forgotten maybe?” He said, desperately trying to find a logical answer.

  “Chris, she wasn’t the kind of person you’d forget, trust me. It’s ok though, she just startled me, that’s all. I’m fine.” She reassured him.

  “Maybe I’ll go have a look and see if she’s still about?”

  “No, please don’t do that, she’s just a little strange and didn’t do any harm.”

  “I’ll be fine. I need to go to the post office anyway. I’ll take my phone and if I get attacked by a big, scary, tattooed lady, I’ll give you a call and you can come save me.”

  “It’s not funny you know. Just be careful, she really freaked me out.” She knew there’d be no convincing him otherwise so she let it drop. She thought about the woman and felt that she did recognise her from somewhere, but wouldn't admit that to Chris . She wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right and having something else to make fun of her. She knew she was right though, that wasn’t the kind of person you just forget. She couldn’t shake the familiar feeling she got from the woman though. She resigned herself to a long shower and then back to job hunting for the rest of the day. Maybe an extra-long shower in that case she thought.

  Chris didn’t waste any time. He grabbed his keys and left, hoping to see this phantom woman. He’d played down his worry to Julie in an effort to keep at least one of them feeling normal, but he knew this was no coincidence. As he hurried up the path they’d taken the night before, he felt concerned but excited at the same time. He was desperate to understand more about what had been happening and knew it was all connected. After combing the path several times for any sign of the woman, he reluctantly headed to the library. As he reached the high street he decided that a pick me up might be in order, to get his head in the right gear. He looked about for a coffee shop but soon realised there wasn’t one around. He wondered if one might be tucked away somewhere discreetly, that only the locals knew about. As he scanned the few shops in the village he noticed a policeman walking by.

  “Excuse me, I was wondering if you might know if there was a coffee shop nearby?” He asked the officer.

  “Coffee shop?” The man replied half chuckling. “Not going to get anything like that round here I’m afraid. Ya best bet would be the machine over at the garage.” It didn’t take any special police work to realise Chris didn’t have a car near to hand and realised the garage would be a considerable walk for him. “Trouble is, that’ll be a good half hour walk for ya. You new to the area or something?” He asked.

  “Yeah, just moved in a few weeks ago about a mile that way.” He idly replied, wondering whether this village was the best place to start a new life. Hauntings were one thing but a lack of a good coffee shop could be a deal breaker.

  “Not down on that new development on the left is it?” Chris gave the policeman a curious look.

  “Yeah, that’s the one, we’re in the old house they renovated.” Keen to spot any reaction, he stared directly at the man, eager to see what his expression might reveal. To his expected disappointment, it was one of surprise, meaning there must be a story behind what was going on.

  “How’s things been?” He asked in a very open-ended kind of way.

  “Ok thanks. Having to get used to place and its quirks, you know.” He didn’t want to give too much away and come across as a loon, especially to a man of the law, but he felt he might have stumbled upon exactly what he was looking for, or at least a step in the right direction. “Do you know much about the house?” He asked as the man seemed physically uncomfortable and tried to deflect the question.

  “About as much as any other round here. Old place with a lot of history I reckon.” The man’s tone went into typical policeman mode, very direct and only saying what he had to say.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m doing as it happens, just wanted to do a bit of research on the place. See if I can find out if anything exciting ever happened around here.” He immediately regretted what he’d said, knowing that he implied this village was as boring as it looked. The policeman’s face twisted slightly but relaxed as if he were about to confess something of worth.

  “Look up Jack and Margaret Winshaw, that’ll be ya best bet. You’ll probably find what you’re looking for with that.” It was obvious he wasn’t comfortable sharing this with Chris but felt he had a right to know.

  “Thanks, Winshaw, right?” That name seemed to ring a bell but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He knew though, this was exactly what he was looking for.

  “That’s the one, and be careful young sir, go easy in that old place. Might look all shiny and new, but it’s still and old house with a lot of history attached. Some things you can’t just throw paint over and ignore.” His words were cold and uninspiring to say the least. He turned and bid Chris a polite farewell, quickly putting distance between him and what he considered a condemned man. Feeling deflated at best, Chris continued onto the library in search of Jack and Margaret Winshaw.

  The library wasn’t what he expected. Chris was disappointed not to find an old Victorian building with spires and gargoyles containing racks and racks of books. Instead, it was located off the back of the relatively newly built village hall and was only slightly bigger than the local shop. Undeterred, he ventured in and started to rifle through the local history section. Knowing time wasn’t on his side as he told Julie he was only going to the post office, he quickly scanned the books for anything obvious. A photo book of the village’s history surfaced with pictures dating back a few hundred years. Turning the pages, he came across numerous photos of the area when it was predominantly farm land. Although farming was still a big industry in the area, it seemed that was all you did here a few hundred years ago. He saw perfectly posed photos of farmers with their pitch forks, dressed in scrappy trousers and shorts with rolled up sleeves, all looking bemused at why they were standing around in such a fashion, posing for a machine in such a way. Funny to think they‘d have no idea a man several decades years later would be looking at them, wondering what more they had to their story. As he turned the next page he recognised the road. It was the main high street and it showed a local fair that had taken place in 1952. Locals had donated produce from their trade to raise money to repair the church roof. The names jumped out at him as if they flew right of the page. Amongst the group of farmers listed, showing the goods they’d brought to donate for the good cause, Jack and his wife Margaret Winshaw. The photo was very old, still in black and white and the Winshaws only occupied a small amount of the photo. He squinted to get a better look at them, trying to work out how they were connected to his house and why the policeman had told him to look for them. Then it struck him, so much that he fumbled the book and had to return the page. Margaret Winshaw, the wife of the farmer in the photo was the very same woman he’d seen in the barn with the man he’d previously found hanging from the tree. Stunned, he studied
the picture, examining every square inch but often coming back to the face he’d seen only the night before. She looked sad in the photo, not that anyone looked too pleased to be there, although she looked as if she had somewhere better to be. Unsure if it was allowed in quiet, local libraries, he got his phone out and took a picture of the photo. Quickly putting it back on the shelf he left the library and broke into a jog, getting back to his wife as quickly as possible, who no doubt was beginning to worry.

  As he rounded the corner into the driveway, he began to catch his breath. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, instantly soaking it in sweat. Pacing himself, he walked to the front door in an attempt to settle his breathing, trying to think of a reason why he’d run home at such a pace.